The Care Series
by Meegsie St James
Summary: When Dean Winchester receives a call from a stranger in the early hours of the morning he figures he should help the young woman. A pursuit for destroying angry spirits soon turns into a romance. DeanOFC
1. How Can I Help This Time?

**-Care Series- **

**How Can I Help This Time?**

**Summary:** Dean may want to help but he doesn't know how.  
**Author's Notes:** This short ficlet was written for **spnhetlove**'s (over at Live Journal) **15 minute fic** challenge, it was spur of the moment. With **spnhetlove's **other/upcoming challenges I will continue this series. I started as a learning experience.

--

As the late hours of the night turn to early morning she collapses into her tiny bed. The darkness of the night swallows her room and she sighs, exhausted from a long day of work. She drags the sheet of her bed to her waist and finally closes her eyes, inviting sleep into her world.

As her breathing becomes heavier and she relaxes more the sounds of footsteps rattle across the wooden floor. She sits bold upright and as soon as she does the sound stops. After a moment a feeling of anguish and anger takes over her, her psychic senses tingle and the footsteps are heard again. She switches on her lamp and they stop.

Jumping out of her bed she grabs a robe and her keys and runs from her apartment to the community telephone in her building. She punches in a number she knows by heart but alas it's voice mail telling her to call someone else. She seizes the pen atop the phone and scribbles the number on her arm.

Without another thought she dials the new number and after four rings a voice answers.

"Hello?"

"Uh. Hi. Is this Dean… Dean Winchester?" she asks cautiously.

"Yeah. Who's this?" Dean asks confused.

"Ma- I'm Marie. Uh- I'm a friend, a friend of your dads" she stumbles across her words, clutching the receiver of the phone.

"Dad? You know where he is?" Dean asked hopefully.

"No." she whispers.

The footsteps thud across the wooden floor of the hall and Marie quickly turns. There's no one there and she feels the anguish and anger again.

"Listen. I need help. If your work is anything like your father's I need _your_ help" she adds quickly.

"What? What's happened? Where are you?"

"Something is following me, it has all day and-"

"Hello?" Dean asks into the phone.

The dial tone rings into his ear and he worries. What the hell? He turns to his sleeping brother, wondering if he should wake him. He knows that if the girl, Marie that he just talked to did know his father and needed help then something supernatural was definitely going on. The question was; how could he help this time?


	2. To Watch And Care

**-Care Series- **

**To Watch And Care**

**Prompt/Challenge:** lj comm. "spnhetlove" 's The Little Things Challenge. List #2 -- scars, cotton, dirt, coffee, thread  
**Summary:** So what really happened to Marie…and who is Marie?

**--  
**

A cold wind blew harshly across the streets of Philadelphia; the suddenness of it made her turn on the spot to make sure no one was following her. Satisfied that no one was she turned back to continue her course. Clad with a light cut across her forehead she walked carefully towards a small building with a neon pink sign spelling the name 'Madame Belle-Decipio'.

The sign on the glass door was turned to read 'closed' but she pushed the door open with her free hand anyway. The small building was exactly what you'd expect a psychic's place of work to be, if you were in a movie. The tables were draped with thick cotton with bright patterns, the lamps draped with sheer materials sewn together with thread. The walls were painted dark purplish colours and beads and wind chimes hung from the ceiling. An overstuffed couch was against the left wall and there was a doorway on the back wall that had a beaded curtain in front, it was where Madame Belle-Decipio would take her clients. She placed the Starbucks coffee on the closest cotton-dressed table and a small stout woman dressed as if she were a gypsy from the sixteenth century emerged from behind the beaded curtain.

"Marie. You have my coffee?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes. I brought it for you," Marie pointed to the coffee on the table, "If it's alright I'll be going home now." She added as she pulled her bag back up on her shoulder.

"Well now that you mention it" Madame Belle-Decipio added, "Mrs Gates, my last client, got a little frightened when I contacted her husband…" at this moment Marie had to fight to not roll her eyes, "…she knocked over one of the pot plants in the back, could you clean the mess? Thank you Marie, dear"

"Oh. Sure." Marie nodded.

"I'll be off then. Goodbye, dear" She smiled.

"Good bye, Madame Belle" Marie added as the Madame picked up her coffee and handbag and walked out the door.

"Locking up again. Great" Marie sighed.

She dropped her heavy shoulder bag, which contained her life, on the couch and went to the backroom. There was a table draped with the same thick cotton as the others in the middle of the room. Three chairs surrounded the table, forming a triangle. There was a crystal ball on the table which frustrated Marie every time she saw it. A real psychic does not need a paperweight to pretend with. On a table against the left wall were a pack of tarot cards, a ouija board and the offending broken pot plant.

Dirt, pieces of broken pot and leaves covered the table and floor and Marie sighed as she knelt to pick up the worst of the leaves and pieces of broken pot. She had got everything but the dirt of the floor when she heard the bell on the door ring. How could she be so stupid and forget to lock the door. Marie stood up, brushed herself off and walked through the beaded curtain and in reflex told the potential customers that the place was closed.

It was two men and Marie was momentarily annoyed with herself that she tried to get rid of them so quick. They were both attractive, both tall and both looked like they had no intention of leaving.

"We're looking for Marie. Heard she works here" the taller one with hair falling into his eyes smiled sweetly.

"Marie?" she asked innocently. "What's she done now?" She wasn't going to tell these two guys who she was straight off the bat, no matter how good-looking they were.

"Nothing. Just need to talk to her." The taller man replied.

The other said nothing but watched Marie as she nervously played with the pocket of her jeans.

"Who are you?" Marie asked.

"Dean. I'm Dean" the shorter finally spoke and offered his hand. Marie took it and he continued with a cocky smirk, "Nice to meet you Marie."

He had figured her without even trying, by the looks of it, and she was so sure she had the two men fooled. That wasn't important now; this man had just introduced himself as Dean. He may in fact be the Dean she spoke with the other night. Dean Winchester.

"You figured me out." Marie shrugged. "So are you Dean _Winchester?_"

"Yep, that's Sammy, my brother" he thumbed backwards to his brother.

Marie shook his hand also.

"Just Sam." He smiled again.

"How'd you know where to find me?" Maire asked impressed.

"A little help from Dad. He pointed us in the right direction" Sam smiled.

"John? Is he here?" she asked hopeful.

"No." Dean sighed. "Listen, you left our phone call the other day really hastily. I thought something happened so what… happened." he slightly cringed at his not so intelligent ending.

"Oh right" Marie nodded. "Um, shall we sit?"

The two men nodded and Marie led them to the couch, she grabbed her bag from it and dropped in on a table. After retrieving a chair from the other room she sat in front of them. With her elbows resting on her knees she clasped her hands and looked at the two Winchesters, readying herself for her strange explanation.

"So taking from your reaction to our phone call you are in the same business as your Dad?" Dean and Sam nodded. "Okay. Well… for the past week I've been stalked." She shrugged.

"Stalked? Well maybe you should go to the police with this. It ain't our area of expertise." Dean explained, raising his brow.

"No- Not the ordinary kind of stalking. I'm being stalked by a spirit." She said as if it were an ordinary Tuesday for her.

"A spirit?" Sam asked. A nod was his reply. "Did you… did you have anything to do with the spirits death?"

"No!" she denied, offended. "I don't even know who it is." She sat up properly now.

"Has the ghost shown any violence towards you?" Dean asked.

Marie laughed and pointed to her forehead. Sam stood and then knelt beside her, as he was a giant to her sitting form, after an initial hesitation she allowed him to inspect the bruise-surrounded abrasion.

"Looks sore," he stated. "But no scars in your near future."

"Yeah…" Marie whispered.

"How'd it happen?" Dean asked as he watched Sam inspect Marie's forehead, surprisingly wishing it were he and not Sam.

"The other night, when I was on the phone to you. He grabbed the receiver out of my hands and hit me over the head with it. I was out for a couple of minutes." She explained as Sam returned to his original seat.

"He? So you could see him?" Sam asked.

"I know it's a man, I just can't see him." Marie shrugged and tried to explain the situation. "But I can feel him"

"Feel him?" Dean questioned a flirty smile playing his face.

"I may work for a fake, con woman of a psychic but I'm the real deal…sorta" Maire told him, wrinkles covering her forehead.

"So you're like collage-boy over here?" Dean coolly motioned to Sam.

Marie looked at Dean with apprehension then turned to Sam who was looking at his brother with annoyance.

"I get.. visions sometimes" Sam shrugged. "And you? Do you get visions?"

"Not really" she smiled lopsided. "I can feel if there is a spiritual presence or I can feel the emotion that is motivating them."

"And what did you get from your secret admirer?" Dean quipped.

"Torment. And definite anger." Marie nodded.

"Brutal death-"

"-Sounds like the usual M.O"

Marie nodded in agreement with the Winchester brothers before the feeling of rage overtook her. She closed her eyes tight and pulled at her hair before falling to the floor and assuming the foetal position. She shouted, screamed, kicked and tossed as Dean and Sam tried to calm and quiet her.

She calmed slowly and was in the arms of both Winchesters, rage still flowed through her but she quietened herself so she could speak. Dean noticed she was trying to speak and leaned down so he was closer to hear her small voice.

"He's here." Marie murmured and the lights cut out.


	3. Initial Envisions

**-Care Series- Initial Envisions **

**Prompt:** lj comm. spnhetlove 's _**"Beginnings" **_challenge  
**Pairing/Characters:** Dean Winchester/OFC  
**Disclaimer:** I own all except for the Winchesters, sadly.  
**Summary:** How will the Winchester brothers deal with this angered spirit?**  
**

The first thing she noticed was his hand on her arm; if it was anything to judge by, Sam Winchester should have been eight feet tall. He had a flashlight in his other hand and asked her if she was ok. She nodded but it was a lie. The pain and anger of this attacking spirit still rushed through her like surges of electricity. She felt as if she was being hit over the head with some kind of electronic hammer every other moment. She gritted her teeth and looked around the dark room.

"Can you see him?" Marie managed out. "Anywhere?"

"No." Sam shook his head. "You alright, Dean?" He asked. Dean answered with a 'yeah'.

Suddenly a rush of a different pain consumed her; it was like she had an instant migraine. Marie rubbed her head with her hand trying to sooth it. Lights began to flash behind her eyes and she twitched at the sensation. Images appeared too, first fire, a room on fire and a teddy bear burnt to a crisp. From her body language Sam could tell what was going on. He grabbed on to her shoulder with more force and spoke clear and calmly.

"Marie, what do you see?"

"Fire." She breathed out quickly before groaning in pain.

"Marie, what else?" Sam pushed on.

As Sam continued his interrogation Dean pulled out his handgun from the back of his jeans. With it loaded with rock salt he was ready to shoot this son of a bitch.

There was a crash as a table was knocked over. Marie felt her scalp burn and she screamed as she felt her hand being torn away from Dean's.

The light shone over her and the Brothers saw her being pulled by her brown hair by a hand that must have been invisible. There was another crash, this time is was Marie against the wall, her head made solid contact and darkness took over her world.

Marie sat lazily in Madame Belle's shop. She had finished reading the Cosmo that Madame Belle had left on the desk (her mom said that 14 was too young an age to read that magazine) and was bored out of her mind. She sighed tiredly as she contemplated what she was going to eat for dinner that night, at least what she wished her mom would get her, Cheese Lovers Pizza, as the jingle of the bell signalled to her that a customer had entered. With her best put-on smile she greeted the stranger.

The first thing she noticed about him was that he was tall. Six foot at least. He had dark hair and matching stubble but he still looked affable. Marie glanced at his dark eyes and noticed he looked tired but there was still something about him that made her feel like he was someone that you'd like to have on your side in a fight.

"Hey there, Welcome to Madame Belle-Decipio's. What can I do for you today?"

"I'd like to see Madame –uh- Belle-Decipio." He said her name with force and what seemed as amusement, this didn't bother Marie in the least she would often have to stop herself from laughing out the name to customers.

"Do you have an appointment?" Marie asked as she glanced down at the days' appointment list.

"No. No, I don't" he shook his head.

"Oh well. Would you like to make one?" she smiled.

"Sure. Is now ok?"

"I can give you 10 minutes from now. She's on her lunch break." Marie picked up a pen and found the right box to fill in, "Can I have your name?"

"John." He sighed slightly.

"Just John?" Marie scribbled down his name.

"Just John." He nodded.

Marie looked up at him. She raised her eyebrows slightly feeling as if she had crossed an invisible line that said 'you've done it now. You've asked the wrong question.' At her concerned expression he smiled slightly and she mirrored, relieved.

"I'm not gonna bite." He laughed. "It's Winchester. John Winchester." He offered and relief grasped her lungs.

"I'm sorry, sir. You're just not like my normal customers. You don't strike me as one to believe in all this." Marie confessed as she scribbled his entire name down.

"Oh I believe. No question about that." Again it was like a switch was flicked. Like again she had gone too far. For a moment there was silence and Marie wanted nothing more than the phone to ring so that she could busy herself. "Don't you?" he asked.

"Don't I what?" Marie lost her train of thought.

"Believe." He raised his brow and lowered his head so they were almost looking eye to eye. "In all this." He gestured a hand to nothing in particular.

"Yes, of course. I work here, don't I?" she smiled. "I may only be an assistant but in a few years I'll have my own place." She added proudly.

"Ah. So you're a psychic too?" he asked.

Marie nodded and put her pen back in the cup it belonged in.

"Maybe you can help me out then…" he looked at her, Marie could tell he was asking for her name.

"Marie."

"Just Marie?" Again his brow rose, with a smile.

"Just Marie." She grinned.

He chuckled lightly at her answer.

"Well, Just Marie." He leant on the counter that she worked at, "What can you tell me about the Gold Theatre?"

"Marie? Marie are you with us?"

Marie's eyes slowly opened to the soft sounds of voices.

"Yeah." She was lying on the floor of Madame Belle's, with the lights now on and the danger gone. She sat up slowly, "I was just having a flashback dream... thing" She smiled slightly and rubbed her head, feeling that her hair was more than a mess, made her frown.

"You okay?" Dean asked her, holding her shoulder.

She casually looked up at him, his intense look made her blush immediately and she quickly looked back down at her jeans that she noticed needed a wash.

"Fine." She whispered quietly.

"Ya sure?" he asked her with such a tone that it made her look up at him.

He held a hand out for her to help her stand up. She took it with some hesitation and chanced another look up at him, into his eyes. She was caught in his stare, such a powerful stare that held the concern that she had seen in the eyes of John Winchester when he rid the Gold Theatre of hostile spirits, those eight years ago. She pulled her eyes away, along with her hand, busying it with the hem of her light yellow t-shirt. She nodded silently for fear her voice would deceive her.

"Do you remember what you saw?" Sam asked her as she dusted herself off.

"Saw?" and then she remembered; she had a vision. "I had a vision." She stated and paced towards the window of the 'reception' area. "I've never had one before."

"Never?" Sam's brow drew together and his neck and shoulders hunched. He stepped closer to Marie to look her in the eyes but had to crane his neck further down to do so, "You've never had a vision before tonight's?"

Marie shook her head. "I told you before, I don't get them."

"Great one, collage boy. You've infected her." Dean remarked as he sorted through the debris of a table that the spirit had smashed.

"Shut up, Dean." Sam glared at his brother. "So you're alright, no aftershock headaches?"

Marie shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Do you remember anything about what you saw?" Dean asked, still scowling at Sam.

"Uh." Marie thought. "Fire, a room on fire." She looked from Dean to Sam as if they knew what she saw.

"Anything else?" Sam asked.

"A teddy bear in the fire. And screaming, someone screaming." Marie closed her eyes to picture the vision again in her head.

"Guess we're gonna Google it then." Dean shrugged.

"Yeah, we'll have to research fires around the area." Sam nodded.

"Mikey." Marie suddenly said.

The two brothers turned to each other, the look questioning Marie's sanity. Dean was the one to break their momentary silence.

"What?"

"Mikey, the name Mikey is standing out to me. I think someone was screaming it, I just can't remember." Marie explained.

"Right. It looks like we're Googlin' Mikey." Dean grinned, Marie showed no amusement and he slowly released his grin at looked at the ceiling light.

"Look, I don't know about you two but I don't want to stay 'round here anymore. I'd kinda like to get home." Marie said as she picked up her shoulder bag from a table.

"I don't think that's the best idea." Sam grimaced.

"What, why?" Marie asked, she really wanted to get home and have a nice hot shower.

"This spirit obviously isn't happy with you so I don't think you should be home at the moment." Sam explained.

"Good point, Sammy," Dean pointed at his brother, "You should stay with us, up at the motel."

"I suppose any place is better than mine." Marie smiled with appreciation.

--

"This is it," Dean turned the key in the lock and opened the door for Marie, "Obvious where the bathroom is, towels are waitin' for ya." He added as he, Marie and Sam filed into the small motel room.

"Thanks, Dean." She smiled up at him as she placed her bag on the foot of one of the two single beds. She continued to smile as she paced towards the bathroom door. The smile looked shy in Dean's eyes, he gave himself kudos. She closed the door behind her and soon the sound of running water leaked from under the door.

Sam sat at the small table and chairs provided in the room, he opened his laptop up and a search engine ready to figure out just what was going on.

"Ok, so I'm putting in 'fire child death Philadelphia' to see what I can come up with."

"Sure Sammy," Dean sighed happily looking at the closed bathroom door, "You think I should give it a shot?"

"Give what a shot?" Sam asked annoyed, he typed in a different search.

"Marie." Dean dropped himself on the bed, resting his head upon his palms.

"Dean! You don't give a girl a 'shot', jeeze." Sam shook his head, frustrated with his brother.

"Whoa, Sammy. Chill," Dean's eyes bulged at the attack, "Wait… you don't want to give Marie a shot too, do you?"

"No, Dean," Sam looked up from his laptop, "I want to figure out what's going on here."

"Fine," Dean shrugged, "Not that you'd have a chance with her anyway." He added quietly.

"What did you just say?"

The sound of running water was shut off which momentarily distracted Dean; his eyes glanced at the door then back at Sam to continue his mocking.

"I said you won't have a chance with Marie, not when I'm on the case anyway." Dean propped himself up on the bed.

"Dean, if I wanted a 'shot' with Marie, and I don't, I could so have a 'shot'!" he growled.

Dean laughed but cut himself off suddenly. Sam was even more frustrated at this.

"What now?"

Dean smirked and pointed to the foot of the bed opposite him, a bag was sat atop it. Sam shrugged in confusion but then realised it was Marie's bag and lights started going off in his head. For Marie's sake he wished she had taken the bag with her, but for his and Dean's sake, he suppressed a small grin.

"Looks like we're in for a bit of a show." Dean said, still with his smirk.

As the brothers anticipated it the door of the bathroom seemed to open in slow motion. Steam rushed out of the opening and a barefoot, dripping wet and towel clad Marie stepped out nervously. Dean's eyes immediately raked her skin, she was a little pink from the hot water and steam arose from her body. Dean studied her collarbone and the way her wet coffee coloured hair stuck to her neck.

"I left my bag. With my clothes." She nervously looked up at Dean and Sam, red flushing her cheeks and chest. Dean could tell she was embarrassed so he licked his lips for good measure; she turned a darker shade of red.

He knew he should of picked up her bag and handed it to her but he was too entertained seeing her adorably nervous and incredibly hot in only a small motel towel. He was a big fan of gravity at that moment and his mind was cheering it on to do it's magic. Marie began to walk across the room and over to the bed across from him, Dean's eyes were trained on her dripping wet and extremely hot legs. Who knew she had legs like that beneath those baggy jeans? Dean sure as hell didn't, not until now. Marie picked up her bag and with one last look at Dean she disappeared into the bathroom.

"And that there, _that_ Sammy, proves there is a God." Dean chuckled and fell back on the bed.


End file.
